“Shhh.” I fumble for the remote, which has fallen down between the cushions, and jack up the volume. “Watch the pork-uh-pines before they get predator-ed.”
Robbie levers himself up from the sofa and takes our plates to the kitchen sink. I let myself relax, thinking I’ve avoided an interrogation.
I’m not watching when he loops past my bedroom on his way back to the sofa and grabs the damn?—
“No. Not the otter.” I hold up my good hand like I’m warding off an attack. “I have free will, goddamn it. I won’t be coerced into your shenanigans?—”
He sits back down, facing me, with one leg bent up, and makes no move to hand Hippy over. Instead, after muting the TV, he clutches the animal to his chest.
“Ask me a question, Ames.”
“Huh?”
“Ask me… Ask me why I agreed to get my tattoo.”
I shake my head. “We just covered this. You chose it. I get it?—”
“Ames.” His eyes blaze into mine. “Ask me.”
“Fine.” I lick my lips. “Robbie, why’d you agree to get matching tattoos?”
“Because I wanted us to have the same mark,” he sayswith zero hesitation. “Because ever since we were kids, I’ve wanted to write my name on you with Sharpie so everyone would know you weremine. Because I wanted you to think of me every time you saw it in the mirror, and I wanted to think of you every time I saw mine. Because when people we know saw them—your family, our friends—I wanted them to think, ‘Those are Ames and Robbie’s matching tattoos because those two are so fucking close, they own a piece of each other.’” He grips Hippy so tightly he’s practically strangling the poor thing. “You do, Ames. You own a piece of me. A piece that will never, ever belong to anyone else, no matter what. And that’s the otter truth.”
I suck in a shaky breath. “Robbie?—”
He shakes his head, cutting me off, and rearranges himself into a comfortable lounging position across my lap again, this time with the otter tucked in his arms, like we didn’t just share amoment. Like he didn’t just take my heart and squeeze it hard.
“We don’t need to talk about anything right now, Amesie,” he says, patting my knee. “That’s not what this was. You need time. I know that, ’cause I know you. I just wanted to tell you. About the tattoo. In case you were feeling… any kind of way about anything. One confession for another.” He glances up at me. “Okay?”
My throat’s too tight to speak, so I just run my fingers through his hair and try to breathe normally.
On the screen, a porcupine waddles obliviously past a fisher. “Poor fucking pork-uh-pine. He didn’t ask to be part of the circle of life,” I mutter hoarsely. “Didn’t ask to have his whole little ecosystemrocked.”
Robbie laughs softly. “I have faith the porcupine will figure it out, Amesie.”
He settles deeper into my lap like he belongs there, and I keep stroking his hair, trying not to think about how right this feels and how badly I want to keep it.
And when I bring him off in my bed later that night, his hands fisted in my sheets and my name echoing off the ceiling, I let myself pretend for just a moment that maybe I can.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ROBBIE
Dr. Colburn’soffice doesn’t look any different than it usually does on this Monday afternoon—same creaky leather chair, same smell of chai, same sunshine coming in the window. But usually when I’m in this chair, I’m trying to play the role of Stable Adult Human without a script and worrying the doctor will see how badly I’m failing.
Today, only a week or so after telling Ames who I am and what I want, I already feel more comfortable just beingme—a person who doesn’t always have his shit together, sure, but since that’s baked into the role, it means I can never fail.
It’s a subtle shift, a little change of perspective—a kind ofschlockwhen I shouldtock, you might say—but it’s working for me.
“So, Robbie.” Dr. Colburn settles into her chair with her notepad and her tea. “How are you feeling?”
I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face. “I’m… amazing, actually. I’m feeling better than I have in… maybe ever.”
“Yeah?” She tilts her head to one side, assessing me, and whatever she sees on my face or in my posture has her grinning in response. “That’s wonderful! What’s been going on?”
“Well.” I lean back in my chair. “My best friend, Ames, was in a fire and almost died, but I saved him. I broke up with Lissa—like, engagement’s off, wedding’s canceled, the whole nine. I also cut my brother, Mike, out of my life. Blocked his number in my phone.” I pause. “Oh, and I hooked up with Ames—which isn’texactlywhat I want, since I’m pretty positive I’m in love with him and have been for a while, but.” I shrug. “He’s freaking out a little, so I don’t need to push things just yet. I can be patient. And stubborn.”
Dr. Colburn blinks at me. She opens her mouth, closes it, and blinks again. “I’m sorry,” she says breathlessly. “What?”
